


I Can No Longer See The Stars

by Andromedas_Void



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-25 01:45:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17112113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andromedas_Void/pseuds/Andromedas_Void
Summary: Prompto was eight years old when he learned his soulmate had died, never having even met the person. They never got to grow up together. They never got to fall in love, like his mothers did. And they'll never grow old together.





	I Can No Longer See The Stars

**Author's Note:**

> I got sucked back into the soulmates trope bc it's my jam. Also please not the 'temporary character death'. Not permanent, don't let the summary scare you.

Prompto always loved the little marks on his forearm, a series of tiny dots interspersed with thin lines mapping out the constellation Bahamut, exactly as it was in his picture books. He could never quite find the constellation in the sky to see how accurate they were; _”the light pollution is much too strong,”_ his mother had said. He didn't truly understand what she meant but he always nodded none the less.

He would fall asleep tracing his fingertips over the lines and dot, wondering all the while if his soulmate did the same.

–

The mark, the little lines and dots, they were...

They were gone?

He twisted and turned his arm, pulling at the skin, searching every inch with no luck. It was as if his soul mark never existed.

His pencil dropped to his desk, rolling to the floor in his haste to run out to the kitchen. “Mama! Mama! It's gone!” he cried out, running over to her at the counter.

When she placed the potato peeler down on the cutting board and turned to him, Prompto held his arm out. The now unmarked skin in display.

“Where did my mark go?” he asked.

His mother took his little arm in her hand and turned it over, smiling softly.

Prompto watched as her face fell when she had come to realise his skin was bare, save for the numerous freckles.

“Oh. Oh, Prom, honey,” she started. 

The distressed tone worried Prompto. He could feel tears already building up in his eyes, burning and prickling, threatening to slip down his chubby cheeks.

“I-I'm so sorry, honey,” she said, pulling him into a tight hug. “They're gone. I'm sorry, they're gone.”

_Gone._

The word bounced around his head, never sticking in one place. He knew what it meant, what his mother meant, and he wished he didn't.

He didn't remember when he started crying. He just remembered clinging to his mother's shirt as she cradled him, apologising over and over again.

He was eight years old when he learned his soulmate had died, never having even met the person. They never got to grow up together. They never got to fall in love, like his mothers did. And they'll never grow old together.

–

Prompto shifted uneasily on the plush sofa, eyes averted when he saw Gladio's hand reaching for Ignis, the mark on the older man's wrist dark and obvious. Ignis had its twin, there for everyone in the room to see with his sleeve rolled up to his elbows.

“Gross.”

“Grow up, Noct,” Gladio teased, laugh echoing in the spacius room.

“How about you not fuck Iggy in my-”

“Highness!” Ignis interrupted. There was a bright red flush to his cheeks when Prompto glanced over. “Watch your language.”

Noctis waved a hand, mocking Ignis' tone and accent when he spoke. “'Watch your language'.”

Prompto chuckled softly, pinching his lips together when Ignis' glare was directed at him.

“I thought were gonna watch a movie, not some low budget porno,” Noctis went on, ignoring Ignis' silent outrage and turning his eyes back to the television.

The heroine had just come to realise the dastardly pirate she had shoved down a sleep hill was, in fact, her beloved. And proceeded to fling herself down the same hill.

“Why doesn't she just climb down the hill like a normal person?” Prompto laughed, watching the two lovers tumble and roll to a stop. “Be a hell of a lot safer than rolling to your death.”

“Tell me about it,” Noctis nodded. He stretched out in his spot, arm resting on the back of the couch, behind Prompto's head.

Gladio dropped to the couch, Prompto bouncing slightly in his seat from the impact. He had a large bowl of popcorn in his lap before he placed it between himself and the blond. “Why are we even watchin' this movie if you're just gonna insult it the whole time?” he asked.

“I would never insult my favorite movie,” Prompto gasped in faux indignation. “I will, however, poke fun at it because what else would I do with a movie I've seen so many times I can quote it in my sleep.”

“Whatever you say, pipsqueak,” Gladio said with a roll of his eyes. Ignis settled down by his side and Prompto looked away again when he placed a kiss on the man's temple.

–

Noctis was in a surly mood when Prompto stepped into the apartment. He could feel the tension in the air, stagnant and thick. It wasn't often the prince got like this. Prompto had only ever witnessed it twice since the two became friends three and a half years ago. He would only reply with one word, if you could even get him to speak. Mostly, he grunted, indifferent, or shook his head.

Prompto wondered if he should just leave, not even announce his arrival and slip back out the door. His entire purpose for the visit was to distract himself, keep himself from the thoughts that swirled around in his head. Every year on this day, for the past ten years.

“Prom?”

_Caught._ “Y-yeah, it's me,” he called back.

Noctis seemed to be speaking. It was a good sign.

Walking down the hallway felt much longer than usual, but he finally turned the corner, peering into the living room. “Hey, bro. Everything alright?”

A grunt was the response from a pile of blankets on the couch, Noctis' head peeking out to glance at him.

Prompto made his way to the couch, sitting awkwardly for a moment before letting out a sigh. He leaned back into the cushions and Noctis followed suit, dropping his head to the blond's shoulder. “Wanna talk about it?”

A huff and shake of the head.

“Okay.” He could see Noctis shifting inside his blanket nest and tried to think of something to say. “Um... d-do you wanna watch a movie?”

No response.

Prompto sighed again. He reached out and wrapped his arm around Noct's shoulder, hand in his dark hair. He scratched lightly, nails barely grazing his scalp.

There the two stayed in silence. 

He thought Noctis had fallen asleep when the teen spoke. “Sorry,” he mumbled through the covers. “I just-” He shook his head, dislodging the cover over his mouth. A sniffle and sigh followed, Noctis leaning his head back against Prompto's tingling arm.

He fought to ignore the pins and needles.

“Have you ever thought about meeting your soulmate?” he asked, voice quiet. Like he wished Prompto wouldn't hear him.

Prompto heard him as if he yelled the words. They froze him to the bone. He shifted, pulling his arm free from around Noctis, and drew his knees up to his chest. “I-I don't...” he trailed off, avoiding eye contact. 

He knew Noctis was frowning. It was a simple question, nothing taboo or even too personal.

“Prom?”

“My soulmate is dead,” Prompto whispered.

He felt Noctis tense, sitting up straight. He waited for the pity, the apologies, the 'comforting hand on the shoulder'. He didn't expect Noctis to let out a nervous laugh.

“W-what?”

Prompto felt sick to his stomach. “They died ten years ago,” Prompto forced out. “Ten years ago today.”

“Today?”

Prompto turned his face away, cheek pressed firmly into his knee. “Yeah, today. How traumatic, right? Imagine being eight years old, ecstatic about having a soulmate only for them to straight up die before you even get to meet them,” he said, letting out an angry huff of breath. Anything to stop Noctis from hearing the tremor in his voice.

The apartment was silent and Prompto swallowed a sob, subtly rubbing at his eyes with his sleeve.

The silence couldn't last forever. Noctis knew it. Prompto knew it. “I'm sorry.” 

“Thanks,” he mumbled, sniffling. He sat back with a grunt, wiping at his wet eyes. “I'm sorry, too,” he said, staring up at the ceiling. “Didn't mean to bring my own pity party when you're already feelin' down.”

Noctis leaned against the back cushion, cover sliding from his shoulder. “I'll never meet mine, either,” he admitted. It was enough to get Prompto to roll his head to the side. “And it's not... not because Dad won't let me or anything like that. My mark vanished.” He looked over at the blond, eyes glassy but dry.

Prompto frowned, brows pulling together. “Did they die, too?” He regretted asking the second the words left his mouth but Noctis only shook his head slowly.

“I did.”

The revelation hit Prompto like a truck and he sucked in a breath, frozen in his spot as he watched his friend sink in on himself. “Noct-”

“It was an assassination attempt that nearly succeeded,” Noctis went on, eyes on the blanket. ”For almost a full minute, it did succeed. My heart stopped on the operating table. I was in a coma for a few months after that, and when I woke up...” He bit his lip. The blanket shifted and Noctis slipped his right arm out from underneath it. A few dark freckles marred the skin. “It was gone.”

Prompto focussed on Noct's arm, watching as he ran his other hand over the surface, tracing out an invisible shape. Something that was once there but was now gone forever. Something that looked so _familiar._

“Bahamut,” he heard himself say, the sound dull in his own ears. “My-my mark. It was the constellation Bahamut.”

It was stupid. So incredibly stupid for him to say it. Noctis turned to stare at him with... anger? Fear? Hope? Disgust? Prompto didn't know. He almost didn't want to know.

“How-” Noctis cut himself off, mouth open and eyes wide.

A sharp tingling filled Prompto's body, numbing him from the inside out. Anger. Noctis was angry. He shouldn't have said anything.

Then, Noctis laughed. Short burst escaping his throat before they filled out into a full body laugh and he leaned forward, clutching his stomach.

_Stupid stupid stupidstupidstupid._ He wanted to leave, to run, to hide.

“W-what are the fucking odds!” Noctis laughed, leaning back in his seat, hands still on his belly. There were tears shining in the corners of his eyes. He shifted, turning on the couch, and Prompto moved away, hand behind him on the cushion.

“N-noct?”

The laughter died down, Noctis still grinning wide as he leaned in closer. His voice was softer when he spoke again, reaching for Prompto's left arm. “Mine, too.”

The hug was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Noctis was warm against his chest. His arm faltered, buckling underneath their combined weight and the two teens fell to the couch, Noctis never once relinquishing his hold.

“I thought I'd never find my soulmate after my mark disappeared,” Noctis whispered, breath hot and wet on Prompto's neck. He heard the prince choke on a sob, rubbing his nose against Prompto's neck. “I'm so happy it was you.”

_”I'm so happy it was you. It was you. You.”_

Prompto felt the wetness on his face before he realised he was crying, clinging tightly to Noctis' shirt. He hiccupped softly, smiling wide when Noctis raised his head, just enough to press their foreheads together, noses brushing. A wet laugh filled the space between them, Prompto unsure who it came from. A brush of lips, chapped and warm, followed. 

His fingers twitched. They clenched tighter into the soft cotton. He pulled Noctis closer and buried his face in the other friend's -his soulmate's- neck, hiding his tears, muffling the sobs.


End file.
